


Love... After A Fashion

by spacewitchqueen (vixy)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, background Andromaquynh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vixy/pseuds/spacewitchqueen
Summary: The Guard is a fairly new fashion house. Andy Scythia is the founder and head designer, and top models Quỳnh and Nicolò are the faces of the brand. They are a tight-knit group, they support each other... and they will all face challenges of their own. A greedy executive who wants to take the brand in a different direction will question Andy’s every move, while an up-and-coming photographer makes his way to Nicolò's heart. Andy and her team, her family will have to work through it all and decide the future of The Guard.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 31
Kudos: 95
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So happy to share the fic I wrote for The Old Guard Big Bang.  
> Art by  mega-ringsandthings-world 

_Merrick Models Management has struck gold with their newest recruit, Nicolò di Genova. “I discovered Nicolò a few months ago,” Steven Merrick says. “My assistant was out sick one day, so I went to get my coffee and there he was: this street musician playing outside the coffee shop. It wasn’t something immediate. I went back the following day and the day after that. When I gave him my card, he laughed at me. It took some convincing to have him do a test photoshoot. He’s a natural, the camera loved him. After that, it took some additional persuading, but he finally agreed to sign with us.” Merrick sounds pleased with himself, and he should be. Nicolò is quickly becoming one of the most sought-after male models in the industry._

_+++++_

_Nicolò di Genova likes to keep busy. Between fashion shows, advertising campaigns for fragrances, sunglasses, and many other events, he seems to be taking all the jobs he can. But is he having a good time? He’s notorious for declining interviews and even skipping after-parties. While it is somewhat refreshing to find someone so removed from the glamour of the modeling lifestyle, it does raise the question: is he taciturn or just rude?_

_+++++_

_Nicolò di Genova’s career is far from over. After leaving his agency, Merrick Models Management (MMM), and quitting the highly demanding runway circuit, he has become the face for up-and-coming fashion brand The Guard alongside top model Quỳhn. The Guard had a fantastic reception with their first collection at the Paris Fashion Week. Whether The Guard will be just another flash in the pan or if they will remain competitive in the fashion world remains to be seen._ _  
__Let’s remember that Steven Merrick, CEO of MMM, vowed that Nicolò would never work with a major brand again. For a while, Nicolò’s future looked uncertain. Enter Andrea ‘Andy’ Scythia and her brand, The Guard. The Guard has taken the fashion world by surprise with a refreshing take on affordable fashion that wouldn’t look out of place on the red carpet._

_++++++_

Joe reread some of the most recent articles he’d found about Nicolò di Genova. He needed to prepare if he was going to work with him, he reasoned. In truth, he didn’t need to read anything. He had followed Nicolò’s career for years, back when he was known as The Runway Menace/Model Brat and Joe hadn’t even considered a career as a photographer. 

At the time, Joe did freelance work for a studio and he’d been lucky enough to be there when the assistant to an actual photographer had called in sick and Joe had the chance to attend a runway show. He didn’t remember a lot about it, except that Nicolò was there, wearing one extravagant outfit after the other, his hair outrageously teased up. He did remember there had been some quarrel with the photographer he was working with but he didn’t know what that had been about. He had started collecting articles about Nicolò shortly after that. Still, Joe was convinced that by re-reading all those clips just now he was just studying, so to speak.

Working with models wasn’t Joe’s first choice, usually. He had quite a few bad experiences where entire photo shoots had been delayed and almost ruined because of whimsical superstars. While Joe couldn’t admit he’d agreed to work for The Guard just because it would mean meeting Nicolò, he also couldn’t deny that it had been one of the reasons for taking the job. 

The other reason was helping a friend. Joe had met Andy years before, at art school, when both of them were still unsure about what professional road to follow. When he’d learned about The Guard, he was truly happy for her and he wished her all the best, of course. Joe wouldn’t have imagined that she’d call him a few weeks ago asking for his help. As it turned out, quite a few of the major fashion houses were not too pleased with how Andy’s brand was getting all the attention. Also, Andy had run afoul of Steven Merrick by hiring Nicolò and thus, many photographers and make up artists were reluctant to work with her for fear of being blacklisted by Merrick.

Andy had told Joe that one of the most renowned fashion magazines, Guardian, was doing a piece on her and that she would take that chance to showcase some choice designs, a sort of preview for The Guard’s new collection. The photographer that the magazine had appointed had mysteriously cancelled a few days earlier, Andy suspected Merrick had booked him and offered to double his fee. All the better, according to Andy. She didn’t want any “strange faces” that could sabotage her work. So, Andy needed a photographer. “You can count on me,” Joe assured her. 

On top of that, he could use the exposure. A feature in Guardian magazine could be a career boost for him. What could possibly go wrong?

Andy asked Joe to come to her atelier to discuss ideas for the photo shoot. They expected the magazine would have the last word on what they would want and actually use, but Andy wanted to meet with Joe beforehand to show him her work, to get to know her models, and to have a chance to catch up.

Joe had always been a heavy sleeper, but for some reason—that surely had nothing to do with the prospect of meeting Nicolò di Genova the next day—he barely slept and was up way before he needed to be. He also spent an unusual amount of time choosing what to wear, until he gathered enough presence of mind to remind himself that it was just a meeting with an old friend. He packed a camera, in case Andy wanted to take some pictures at her workshop and off he went.

It felt like in no time at all he was ringing the doorbell, waiting for the intercom to crackle so he could announce his arrival. Instead, a beautiful woman opened the door and stood aside to let him in.

“Hi!” She greeted him cheerfully. “Joe, right?”

“Hello.” Joe smiled warmly. “That’s me. And you must be Quỳnh, Andy’s m…”

“I’m her wife,” Quỳnh interrupted Joe, raising her left hand and wiggling her ring finger so Joe could see.

Joe was about to congratulate her when Andy appeared behind Quỳnh and pulled her hand down softly but firmly. “Really, Quỳnh. This is supposed to be a secret.”

Quỳnh shrugged. “I thought you said Joe is a friend of yours, he can be my friend too.”

Andy shook her head in mock exasperation. “Joe, meet Quỳnh. My model, my muse, my wife.” 

Quỳnh beamed at her. Joe offered her his hand but Quỳnh pulled him into a hug. “So you are going to be our photographer, huh? I’d better go make myself pretty.” She grabbed a couple of garment bags from a rack and disappeared behind a door.

“I’m glad I brought this, then.” Joe showed Andy his camera. “I thought there might be a chance to use it.”

Andy snorted. “Always prepared, aren’t you, Joe? Come in, we didn’t even let you enter the place properly and Quỳnh already ambushed you. How are you?”

They talked for a long while. Andy showed him her workshop and some of her designs. Then they sat down on a cozy couch by a window to wait for Quỳnh. Joe kept stealing glances at the door, not wanting to ask about Nicolò.

“I can’t believe this. Any of this. It feels so sudden.” Andy sighed. “And I know fame is fickle and everything can end like this.” She snapped her fingers. “But even if it does, I’m going to enjoy my time here.” Andy caught Joe looking at the door. “Don’t worry about Quỳnh, she’s going to take a while deciding which dress she wants to wear for us.” She rolled her eyes but Joe could tell she wasn’t really annoyed.

“Is, ah, is anyone else going to join us?” Joe asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. He couldn’t fool Andy.

“Are Quỳnh and I not enough?” She teased. “Sebastien Le Livre is coming later, do you know him? He writes for Guardian from time to time and he’s going to write an article about, well, me.” Andy shrugged. “Oh, and Nicky was supposed to be here an hour ago but he’s probably still in bed. Maybe not even asleep.”

“Nicky?” Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Nicolò. You’re not a fan, are you, Joe?”

Joe cleared his throat. “No, not my type at all.” 

The doorbell rang. Joe stood up so fast he stumbled. “Should I?”

Andy snorted. “I’ll get that.” She stood up and went to open the door. Joe rolled his eyes at his eagerness and went over how he would introduce himself. He had not yet decided what he would say when Andy was back.

The man behind Andy was not Nicolò. “Sebastien, this is Joe, our photographer. Joe, this is Sebastien.”

Sebastien shook Joe’s hand firmly. “Call me Booker, I’m the writer.” He used air-quotes when he said ‘writer’.

Andy shoved him playfully. “Don’t listen to him, Joe. Booker is a fantastic writer, he just loves to be dramatic.”

“Ah, well, it is a writer’s prerogative.” Booker smiled. “Shall we?”

Andy nodded and sat down on the couch. Booker set a recorder on the coffee table by the couch, took out a notepad, dragged a chair and sat astride it.

Joe was unsure if he was supposed to leave now and Andy was too polite to ask him to. Andy seemed to notice his hesitation and patted the empty seat beside her. “You can stay, right Book?”

Booker looked at Joe and gave a sharp nod. “Andy tells me you two are old friends? Good, in my opinion, interviews flow best when the interviewee is relaxed.” He turned back to Andy. “So, you used to work at Guardian, right?”

“That’s right. I worked there as junior editor. I never imagined becoming a fashion designer, though.”

“How did that happen?”

“Quỳnh. I met her at a photo shoot, she was already a famous model then. I was there covering for someone else and we hit it off. One day I showed her some rough sketches I had been working on and she encouraged me to try it, to make that dress. I was reluctant at first, but I did and I sent it to her. And then she wore it to an awards show and soon after that many of her friends were asking me to dress them. That’s really how this started.”

“And how did Copley react?” Booker asked. “Guardian’s editor-in-chief,” he added for Joe’s benefit. 

“James was very supportive. He gave me very good advice and he also connected me to some people who helped get me started.”

“And I’m guessing Quỳnh had some good contacts too.” He smiled.

Andy took the hint. “Indeed. She introduced me to other designers and other people in the fashion industry, not all of them were happy to share their knowledge but some of them were and I’m grateful for that. And when I was looking for a male model, she suggested Nicolò di Genova and he’s been a good fit for The Guard.”

“What about your creative process? This collection feels somewhat more sober than your first.”

“I took less risks this time.” Andy hesitated, Joe could feel she didn’t want to talk about that. “In short, I try to envision what my models would like. I’ve said before that Quỳnh was the main inspiration behind my first collection, it was she who convinced me to take this leap of faith after all.”

“That was all me.” Quỳnh had finally reappeared. She was stunning in an asymmetrical red dress.

Joe made to stand up so she could sit beside Andy but she shook her head. “And it was a huge success, as I told her it would be.” She winked at Andy. “Hi, Book!”

“It was an unexpected success,” Andy amended. “And as you can see, she continues to support me. Nicolò too. We’re a little family.”

Quỳnh sighed. “It was only unexpected for you, Andy. And speaking of Nicolò, where is he? Shouldn’t he be here?”

“Off the record, isn’t he supposed to be.” Booker paused, looking from Quỳnh to Andy. “Not the easiest person to work with? You know, kind of the stereotype of the diva model.”

“He’s a sweetheart!” Quỳnh exclaimed, a note of outrage in her voice. “You know better than to believe what the tabloids print, Booker. Shame on you.”

“I will have to interview him one day, for now I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ve never had a problem with him,” Andy said. “He’s a professional. It’s just his bad luck that he had a falling out with some people.” 

Joe could tell Andy was measuring her words carefully. Some part of him wanted Booker to press the subject but Booker seemed to understand Andy would not talk more about it and the conversation returned to Andy’s plans for her new collection.

When the interview was over, Quỳnh asked Joe to take some pictures while Andy and Booker watched. After that, Andy brought out a wine bottle. She didn’t have to insist too much for everyone to accept a glass. Quỳnh ran to the other room to change back into her clothes. “If I stain this dress.” She shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it!”

Everyone was having a good time. They toasted Andy’s success so many times that Joe couldn’t deny he was beginning to feel dizzy. When it was his turn to make a toast he shouted: “Here’s to the muses.” He bowed to Quỳnh. “And to the gorgeous divas who don’t even bother to show up.”

A door slammed behind him. No one said anything, but from the way their smiles faded, Joe could guess exactly who had chosen that very moment to walk in.

“Anyone I’d know?” The newcomer asked. Joe turned around and his suspicion was confirmed. The piercing stare he got from Nicolò made him want to disappear. 

“Nicky! Come join us.” Quỳnh beckoned him, raising her glass.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Us divas tend to do that.” Nicky huffed and turned around, stomping away and slamming the door to the room Quỳnh had used to get dressed. Joe didn’t even get the chance to see what he was wearing, much less apologize. 

Booker broke the tension announcing that he had to leave. Joe took the hint. “I’d better go, too. I’ll see you in a few days for the actual photo shoot. Thank you so much for considering me for the job, Andy.” He picked up his things and walked out the door with Booker, hoping he hadn't just ruined his big opportunity.


	2. Chapter 2

If someone were to ask him, Joe wouldn’t say he was particularly self-conscious, he also wouldn’t say that he tended to overthink, his approach to life was usually ‘what’s done is done, get over it’ and that had worked quite well for him in the past. In the past being the key to his present state of mind. Joe could not get over the incident at Andy’s place. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it had been just a silly joke, that no one was dwelling on it but himself, he had the nagging sensation that Nicolò wasn’t the kind to let something like that slip. 

Joe’s hunch about Nicolò was confirmed a couple of days later. He’d been relieved when he didn’t receive a message or a call from Andy saying that he was no longer needed for the photo shoot and while he didn’t expect Nicolò to be openly friendly with him, he certainly didn’t imagine there would be real animosity between them. It seemed he had underestimated how personal Nicolò di Genova could take things, even innocent banter.

The day started as a regular photo shoot day. Joe arrived at the location —a modern building with a good balance of big open spaces and interesting corners to use— with time to spare and started setting up his equipment, aided by staff from the magazine. Joe was already visualizing Quỳnh in the red dress she’d worn at Andy’s coming down a staircase, or maybe standing in front of the magnificent corridor framed by tinted windows. There was also a garden where they could take advantage of the natural lighting, Joe was considering if that would work when someone called his name.

“Joe?” A young woman approached him, offering him her right hand and clutching a black three-ring binder on her left.

“Hi,” Joe greeted her. “Are you another model?”

The young woman laughed. “No, no. I just started working for Andy a few weeks ago sort of an intern-slash-assistant gig. I’m Nile.”

“Hello, Nile, I’m Joe.”

“Andy said you would be here already, she’s on her way with Quỳnh.” Nile looked at her watch. “We’re on time. Is Nicky here yet?”

Joe shook his head trying to keep a neutral expression. He didn’t fail to notice that Nile hadn’t called him ‘Nicolò’, he wondered if it would be worth asking her about him. He decided against it and he also decided not to make any witty remarks about the tardiness of models, and it was good that he didn’t because Nicolò had arrived and would have definitely heard him. 

Nicolò was wearing faded jeans and a white dress shirt that was slightly loose on him, his hair was tied in a short ponytail, his trademark stubble beard completed the casual look. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, he realized he was staring but if Nicolò noticed, he didn’t say anything. Nicolò kissed both of Nile’s cheeks and had a genuine smile on his face as he said “good morning” to her. However, when his eyes met Joe’s, the cold stare he’d had at Andy’s workshop was back in place. He nodded at Joe.

“Hi,” Joe said. “I’m Yusuf. Joe.” He wanted to ask if he could call him ‘Nicky’ but he didn’t get the chance.

“Yusuf Joe?” Nicolò raised an eyebrow and shook Joe’s hand perhaps a tad more strongly than was necessary. 

The contact made a shiver run down Joe’s spine, it took him a second to recover. Joe suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at himself, why was he so starstruck? It wasn’t like he’d never worked with other models before. “Joe. The photographer. We met…”

“At Andy’s place, yeah I remember. I’m a diva with a good memory.” Nicolò turned back to Nile. “Is it just Quỳnh and I? I thought Andy mentioned someone else.”

Nile shook her head. “She thought about it but decided to go with just you two for the article.” 

“Any, uh, questionable choices?” 

“Other than your hair? You’re going to give the stylist a heart attack, I swear.” Nile shook her head again. “Andy loves you, she wouldn’t make you look bad.” She flipped through the binder and showed Nicky some pages. “These are the outfits she chose, the rack is downstairs.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I will go get changed so we can start when Andy gets here.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Quỳnh will give you more than enough time.” Nile chuckled. 

Nicolò snorted but almost immediately recovered his composure. “Still. I don’t want  _ anyone _ to say that I’m the one making everyone late.” He looked Joe up and down before turning around towards the elevator.

Joe did roll his eyes as soon as Nicolò walked away, but waited until he could be sure Nicolò was out of earshot before cursing under his breath.

“So I take it you’ve met,” Nile said, startling Joe.

Joe sighed. “Yeah. I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot, though.”

Nile looked from Joe to the elevator and back. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Nicky is very nice, he’s just shy around new people but you seem okay.”

“Thank you, Nile.” Joe smirked thinking about an ad he’d seen some time ago where shy Nicky had appeared wearing nothing but a carefully placed towel while making bedroom eyes at the camera. He tried to remember what the ad was for but he couldn’t, towels maybe? Andy’s arrival brought Joe out of his reverie. 

“Hi Joe, hi Nile.” She looked around. “Quỳnh is downstairs getting dressed, are we ready to begin?”

Joe nodded. “I was thinking we could use those stairs and the room with the glass wall.”

“Sounds good. I think we can also consider the roof garden, maybe not the pool but…” 

“A pool photo shoot would be so much fun,” Nile interrupted. “We have to do that one day.”

“Sure.” Andy chortled. “When I design swimsuits we can talk, for now no one is going anywhere near chlorinated water with my clothes.”

“Just hear me out, I think Quỳnh would love it.” Nile grinned. 

“I would love what exactly?” Quỳnh had stepped out of the elevator wearing a black dress with delicate embroidery around her shoulders, her hair in an elegant updo. The three of them beamed at her.

“I was just telling Andy we must do a pool photo shoot.”

Quỳnh nodded enthusiastically. “Oh? It’s been ages since I did one but I wouldn’t say no to that. Joe, what do you think?”

“Just let me know and I’ll bring my pool gear.”

Quỳnh clapped her hands. “I must confess I’m not a big fan of underwater sessions ever since I did one where I swear I was almost drowning.” She shuddered. “But for the most part they’re fun, the photos are usually amazing, and I’m sure Andy would never let anything bad happen.” She squeezed Andy’s hand.

“Could we focus on today’s photo shoot, please? There will be no pools.” Andy tried to appear serious but she was blushing.

“Pools? Why would there be a pool?”

They had been so engrossed in the discussion of a pool setting that they had not noticed Nicolò standing right behind Andy. Quỳnh and Nile were still going over the possibilities and Andy was trying to get their attention, which was lucky for Joe because he was staring at Nicolò again. Nicolò had changed into a dark gray knitted sweater, black pants and a black coat; he was wearing small silver hoops on both ears, the ponytail was gone and his hair was just slicked back to keep it away from his face. 

“We were just saying that if you’d taken any longer Joe was going to push you into the pool,” Quỳnh said matter-of-factly. 

Joe could have screamed. The last thing he needed was for Nicolò to think he was still making jokes behind his back. 

“Is that so?” Nicolò didn’t look at him.

“Indeed. Honestly, Nicky, what took you so long?”

“The stylist wasn’t satisfied with my hair,” he mumbled. “I think I will have to cut it soon.”

“Told you she wouldn’t like the weak attempt at a manbun.” Nile giggled.

Quỳnh cocked her head “I don’t know, it could work but...”

“Could we maybe get to work at some point?” Andy turned on her heel and led the way.

The room they were going to use had floor-to-ceiling windows which made up an entire wall, an elegant white couch right in front of the glass, and a simple wooden table with a couple of chairs in the opposite corner.

“Joe?” Andy nodded at him.

“Right. Let’s start at the table while we wait for the sun to move a little bit to get the most out of the windows over there. Quỳnh, could you sit over there facing this way, please.” Joe waited while Quỳnh took her place. “Perfect, thank you. And Nicky.”

Nicolò looked daggers at him asking too plainly, if only with his eyes, who had given Joe permission to call him that.

“Nicolò,” Joe amended. “You take the other chair, please.” 

Nicolò stood rooted to the spot. For an agonizing second Joe thought the bratty model was not going to take directions from him, he was about to say something else when Nicolò moved and slumped in the chair. It was going to be a long day.

When they were done with the table, Quỳnh and Nicolò went to change into their next outfits. Joe wanted to ask Andy if he was doing something wrong but she was smiling at him and she seemed to be honestly pleased with the photos Joe had shown her so far so he chose to keep quiet. Maybe he was just imagining Nicolò averting his eyes when he gave an indication to them, or only looking at the camera when he absolutely had to. 

Quỳnh came back first, this time wearing a beautiful emerald green silk dress. The material floated around her as she walked. While they waited for Nicolò, Joe had her twirl around to capture the movement of the fabric. Quỳnh was overjoyed, laughing, all but dancing, glee clear in her eyes. 

“You are not going to ask me to spin around, are you?” Nicolò was back. He was wearing a shirt of the same silky quality as Quỳnh’s dress, the dark green color bringing out his eyes. Joe looked away from him before his tongue betrayed him. Was it the sun or was the room too stuffy all of a sudden? Joe took off his jacket.

“Look at those arms!” Quỳnh exclaimed. “Joe, dear, why aren’t you a model?”

Nicolò huffed. “Yeah, sure.”

Quỳnh sashayed to the couch and sat down right in the middle, Andy and Nile carefully extended the dress around her. “Please, Nicky. Look at Joe and tell me he’s not the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.” 

Joe could feel his cheeks burning, he pretended to struggle with his camera, unable to raise his eyes to see Nicolò’s reaction.

As it was, Nicolò didn’t say anything at all, he went to stand behind Quỳnh, muttered something in her ear, and perched himself on the back of the couch a faint blush coloring his face. Joe was sure it was just the light playing tricks on him. Whatever it was, there was no way to make Nicolò look directly at Joe after that. Quỳnh and Andy had to repeat Joe’s instructions to him more than a few times.

By the end of the day it was clear that Nicolò couldn’t stand him. Joe drew comfort from the idea that this had been a one-time thing. They had no reason to work together after this, even if Andy called Joe again —and at the moment Joe felt that was a big if—, he could always say no. Joe told himself he was alright with that, his only hope was that Copley liked his work and maybe he could hire him for some other jobs. Little did he know he would get another call that same night.

Joe was in the shower doing his best to push any thought of bratty models from his head, he decided the day’s stress merited deep conditioning so it took him longer than usual. When he finally came out of the bathroom and checked his phone he had several missed calls and a couple of texts from Andy.

“Sorry to bother you. James decided last minute that he wants some pictures in a different location. Let me know if tomorrow works for you.”

Joe stopped toweling his hair and stared at his phone. His fingers were already tapping his answer before he could finish considering the pros and cons of saying yes. “Sure, send me the details.”


	3. Chapter 3

“A different location?” Joe muttered to himself five minutes later. “Understatement of the year.”

The ‘different’ location was an orchard a couple of hours away which was apparently ideal because the night’s forecast of a mild snowfall -—”very light, nothing to worry about, Joe”-— would create a wonderful wintery effect, just perfect for the collection. Joe sighed. He didn’t particularly favor cold weather, he could endure it with a lot of layers of the most insulating clothing but it wasn’t like he would go out of his way to go anywhere where he would need that kind of protection. Oh, well. “Never again doubt that I consider you one of my best friends, Andy.” Joe sent the text and prepared his backpack for the next day.

Joe felt like he had barely slept when the sound of a car honking woke him up. It took him a few seconds to arrange his thoughts and remember that Andy had said Nile would pick him up. This couldn’t be her, it was much too early but it was good he was awake now. He checked his phone just in case they had changed the time but there were no new messages after his last. He buried his head between two pillows, already dreading leaving his warm bed to go freeze in some fancy garden or whatever. 

Two more honks a few minutes later made him stand up and walk zombie-like to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get dressed. Joe didn’t take too much time choosing what to wear, he figured any chance of causing a good impression on Nicolò was long gone and besides, he needed to be warm and comfortable today so he opted for a blue compression shirt under a sweater and a jacket on top of that, just to be sure. Stylish? Probably not but no one would notice. He looked longingly at his bed one last time and went outside to wait for Nile.

“Good morning, Joe!” Nile greeted him, the very image of cheerfulness. 

Joe couldn’t help but smile at her. “Good morning, Nile. Is it just us?”

“Yeah. I think Copley is sending someone else to assist you but they’re getting there on their own. Quỳnh and Nicky are with Andy. I think there might have just been room for us but we figured…” she trailed off.

“That it was best not to upset the star?” Joe chuckled although his heart felt as if someone had squeezed it.

“No! Not at all, we figured it was best to take two cars so that everyone was more comfortable.” 

Joe nodded, no point in arguing that. He put his bags in the backseat and got in beside Nile.

“Also, trust me, you don’t want to get in a car with Andy, she…” 

“Drives like a madwoman?” Joe interrupted. “Yeah, I know.” He shuddered.

“Plus, you get to be my copilot, so you’re on navigation and music duty.” Nile handed him her phone to choose a playlist. “Are you ready?”

After an uneventful car ride, Joe and Nile arrived at the orchard. The trees still had some apples, even though peak picking season was almost over. Joe grudgingly admitted the place had a certain charm, although he was of the opinion that the rustic aura would not provide the best contrast for Andy’s creations but he chose to keep his thoughts to himself. One day he would get to call those shots, today was not that day. One thing he could not keep quiet about was the weather.

“It’s… colder than I thought it’d be.” Joe rubbed his gloved hands together and blew on his fingertips. 

Nile did not seem too bothered by the snow. “At least it’s not windy.”

When everyone else arrived they got to work. The shoot proceeded in a similar fashion to the previous day. Quỳnh looked as though it was perfectly natural for someone to wear a strappy dress in the last weeks of Fall. Of course she shivered (and cursed) between outfits but whenever Joe’s camera was on her, she was the image of an elegant Ice Queen. 

And Nicolò. If Joe had to describe him today, he would say Nicolò was just. Intense. Alarmingly so. He too seemed to be unbothered by the cold but unlike Quỳnh, he didn’t even complain between takes. He followed Joe’s instructions slightly better than the day before but that was about it. No one, not even Andy could make him smile. Which didn’t matter to Joe, really, because the damn man was annoyingly beautiful anyway. But Joe had seen enough pictures of him to know just how much a smile could light up that face. 

They were about to wrap up for the day when the weather worsened, the sky turned gray and snowflakes started to fall. Everyone scrambled to the cars; the person that Copley had sent to help Joe left at once, but to everyone else it was clear it would be better to find a place to stay, the storm made it dangerous to drive all the way back. 

Five minutes later they found a small hotel, the bed-and-breakfast type; it wasn’t ideal but it would have to do. They ran inside to take cover and not long afterwards it was really snowing. 

“Looks like we’re staying here,” Andy said and walked to the front desk.

Nicolò groaned, the shadow of a protest too clear on his face.

“It’s going to be fine, everyone can get a room,” Andy reassured him.

As it happened, the hotel receptionist informed them that there were only three rooms left, two doubles and a single. 

After some conversation, Andy informed the receptionist that they would take the three rooms. The woman smiled and looked at them, eyes lingering on Quỳnh and Nicolò, a hint of recognition in her face. She excused herself to go prepare the rooms. 

“Not bad. Nicky, can take one room. Joe can take another, and Nile can stay with Quỳnh and me.” Andy smiled.

Joe looked out the window, everything in sight looked white and it didn’t seem like it would stop snowing soon. He was grateful Andy had decided to stay there for the night. He sighed with relief. 

When the receptionist came back and gave them their keys, Joe took the one to the single room and bid everyone goodnight. The room wasn’t bad, it had a full bed, a TV, a table that could double as a desk, a chair and even an old-looking sofa. 

Also, it was warm enough that he could take off his jacket. He was idly flipping through the channels when he heard a commotion from the room next door. He got up and opened his door. Nicky, Andy, Nile and Quỳnh were in the hallway. Nicky’s face was red.

“Someone is trying to kill me,” Nicky hissed.

“No one is trying to kill you.” Quỳnh rolled her eyes and sighed. “Our room has flowers too.”

“What happened?” Joe asked.

“There are some flowers in the room—” Andy began to explain.

Nicolò interrupted her. “Ah, no. There aren’t just some flowers in there, they filled the damn room with them.”

Joe looked from one to the other, confused.

“I am allergic to pollen. I can’t stay there.” 

Joe was about to offer to trade rooms with him when Quỳnh beat him to it.

“Don’t be a baby, Nicky. You know what? You were lucky to have a room to yourself, Nile was going to camp on the floor. She will take your room.” She smiled sweetly at Nile but there was something in her eyes that said just too clearly that she would not allow any argument.

Nile looked at everyone and nodded. “Excellent, I just got upgraded. Good night, everyone.” She walked calmly past them, claiming Nicky’s room.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Nicolò crossed his arms.

“Your choice, pretty boy. You can stay with Joe, or you can stay out here in the hallway. Good night.” Quỳnh turned around taking Andy’s hand and shut the door to their room.

“That’s just great, stay with the guy that hates me,” Nicolò mumbled walking past Joe and into their room.

“What? I don’t hate you,” Joe argued but Nicolò wasn’t listening, he was ransacking the closet. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the couch,” Joe offered, trying not to think how uncomfortable the sofa would be.

Nicolò shook his head. “So you can tell everyone how I took over your room?” He threw a blanket and a pillow on the couch and struggled with it.

“I think it doesn’t fold out,” Joe said, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t want the other man to think he was mocking him, he seemed to be irritated enough at the moment.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Nicolò hissed. He all but threw himself on his makeshift bed and turned around to face the back of the couch, his knees awkwardly bent so his feet wouldn’t dangle over the side, the thin blanket barely covering him.

“Nicolò…”

“Good night!” 

Joe turned off the light and lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. No sooner had he done that than Nicolò was standing beside him. 

“The couch is too uncomfortable.” Nicolò was looking at the floor. “Do you mind?”

Joe moved over so Nicolò could have one side of the bed. An uncomfortable silence seemed to fill the room when the rustling of bedsheets and blankets finished. Joe didn’t want to cross any boundaries but the thing that Nicolò had said earlier was bothering him. “Why would you think I hate you?”

“I remember what you said that day.”

“At Andy’s? About you being late?”

“That. And the first time we met, at the runway show a few years ago.” 

Joe was nonplussed. “You remember me from that?”

“I told you, I’m a diva with a good memory. You were with a photographer, an awful man. Rude. He was harassing a model backstage and I intervened. He tried to punch me but security arrived. They escorted him outside and there you were, I heard you say ‘foolish people should know better’ and I assumed you were just like him, that you approved that kind of behavior, you seemed to take his side.”

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t have. I had no idea that had happened. I would have reported him if I’d known.” Joe raised himself on one elbow. “You have to believe me, Nicolò. I was just there that day because his actual assistant had called in sick and he said he would pay me. I do remember the brawl and security asking him to leave, but he told me some intern had messed up with his gear, broken a lens or something, and that he’d lost his temper. That’s why I said. What I said. I’m so sorry.” 

“I believe you.”

Silence filled the room again. Joe lay back down because he didn’t know what else to say, he figured ‘good night’ was as good as anything but Nicolò spoke first.

“Why did they have to choose snow for the pictures? I’m still freezing.” 

Joe snorted. “You seemed very comfortable out there.”

“Because I had a wool coat and a scarf!” Nicolò pulled at the neck of his t-shirt. “This is what I was wearing this morning.”

Joe turned to look at Nicolò. “You didn’t bring anything else?”

“I had no idea we would have to stay the night.” 

“Here,” Joe said, sitting up. “You can have my sweater.” He took it off, grateful once more for his compression shirt. 

Nicolò only hesitated for a second before donning it. “Thank you.”

“Good night, Nicolò.” 

“Nicky,” Nicolò mumbled. “You can call me Nicky. Good night, Joe.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was only one bed! (sorry, I had to)

When Joe had heard he’d be sharing a room with Nicolò he felt stunned, as if someone had punched him in the face. When he realized they would be sharing a bed instead he was no less nervous. And then they had talked, and that had done nothing to calm Joe’s nerves. After their short conversation Joe thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, how could he? What if he flailed and kicked as he sometimes did when he dreamed? What if he rolled over and pushed Nicolò —Nicky!— off the bed? Or worse, what if he hugged him in his sleep like he did with his pillows? How mad would Nicolò be? 

Joe was giving serious thought to building a pillow wall between them when he heard the unmistakable sound of light snoring from Nicky’s side, clearly he wasn’t as anxious as Joe about the sleeping situation. 

For a wild second, Joe considered staying awake all night but insomnia wasn’t really his thing and also, he was tired so he needed to get some shut-eye. Joe turned his back to Nicky and tried to occupy as little space as he could; only when he was certain there was a sizable gap between them Joe allowed himself to fall asleep.

The faint warmth of the morning sun woke Joe up. It took him a second to remember where he was and who he was with. One second. Then he realized it wasn’t the sun’s warmth he was feeling. 

Nicky was plastered to Joe’s back, an arm thrown over his waist, effectively spooning him. Joe wondered if he’d moved during the night, invading Nicky’s side, but when he moved his arm he noticed he was pretty much in the same position he’d fallen asleep in, right at the edge of the bed. He also noticed it would be pretty much impossible to untangle himself without waking up Nicky. 

Joe could’ve laughed but he wasn’t eager to break that moment of peace, he wanted to give Nicky the chance to move away on his own. He shook his head lightly thinking his curls would tickle Nicky awake but all Nicky did was burrow his face against Joe’s neck, nuzzling him.

“Nicky?” Joe whispered, his voice hoarse. Nicky didn’t reply, he just squeezed Joe’s waist tighter. Joe moved his arm tentatively to caress Nicky’s hand; his fingers hovered over Nicky’s wrist and Joe swore he could feel something very much like electricity between them. His fingertips rested feather-light on the back of Nicky’s hand when sharp buzzes broke the spell. Someone’s phone. Not his, Nicky’s. Joe felt the shift in temperature as Nicky rolled away from him and stood up, presumably to find his phone.

“Joe?” Nicky whispered.

Joe didn’t move, he was telling himself maybe it would be best for both of them if he pretended he had slept through the cuddling. 

“Sorry,” Nicky said in a barely audible voice. There was a pleading note to his voice that Joe could not ignore. He turned around to look at him.

“Why are you sorry?”

“For.” Nicky’s face went red. “Hugging you. Like that.”

“No—” Joe tried to assure Nicky he didn’t have to be sorry but Nicky didn’t let him speak.

“It was too cold and—”

“Yes, absolutely—” 

“—something pulled me towards you—”

“—it’s fine, really—”

“—like a magnet, and—”

Joe’s heart fluttered. “I know, I felt—”

But Nicky kept talking. “I just don’t want you to feel like I was trying to make a move on you.”

“Of course not,” Joe said, hoping disappointment didn’t show up on his face.

“It was inappropriate, I’m sorry.” Nicky bit his lip. “Please don’t tell Andy. She will tell Quỳnh and she won’t let me live it down.” He started to take off Joe’s sweater.

Joe just nodded. “Keep that for now,” Joe said, pointing at the sweater. “It’s still cold and I doubt Andy will let you play with her unreleased garments just because you forgot to bring your own coat. I have a jacket.” There was no other reason he wanted Nicky to have that, no.

Nicky went to the bathroom to get dressed while Joe gathered his things. By the time they left the room they had agreed to put the previous night behind them, no one had to know. As it turned out they couldn’t keep it a secret for long.

The hotel’s breakfast bar turned out to be a rickety table with a coffeepot and pop tarts. Joe made a face but he figured it was better than nothing. He and Nicky filled their paper cups and sat down at the lobby to wait for the others. The first one to appear was Quỳnh.

“So, how did you guys sleep?” Quỳnh asked as soon as she set eyes on them. Almost as if she knew something. Nicky choking on his coffee didn’t help. “Was the fold-out bed comfy?”

“What fold-out bed?”

“The couch. You did realize you had to lift and pull to unfold it, right?”

Nicky blushed to the roots of his hair while Joe looked away. 

“Are you telling me that two grown men were bested by a piece of furniture?”

“It was late,” Nicky muttered under his breath and fanned himself.

“Wait a minute, so where did you sleep then?”

“On the bed, obviously,” Nicky huffed. 

“You made Joe sleep on the floor?” Quỳnh turned to look at Joe. Joe looked determinedly away from her. “Oh, this is too good! You guys slept together!” She clapped her hands.

“Shush! What is wrong with you?” Nicky hissed. “Yes, okay, fine. We shared the bed, big deal. Could you let it go?”

“Not a chance.” Quỳnh was grinning from ear to ear. “Nicolò di Genova attacks again.”

“No one was attacked, stop it.”

“Wait till Andy hears this, she owes me money now.”

“WHAT?!” Nicky yelled making Joe flinch. Nicky then switched to Italian and—by the sound of it—proceeded to berate Quỳnh.

Joe didn’t understand much of what Nicky said then but he caught a couple of words. “I don’t like him”, “we don’t like each other”, “he doesn’t like me” or something along those lines. He thought he heard Quỳnh’s reply “you’re an idiot, Nicolò di Genova” but Joe couldn’t be sure. 

They were still bickering when Nile joined them. She raised her eyebrows at Joe but he just shrugged and mouthed ‘it’s a model thing’ at her to keep her from asking any more questions, he was not in the mood to stoke that particular dumpster fire. Nile’s eyes lingered on Nicky for a moment and then she looked at Joe. She had noticed the sweater. Joe pretended to be very interested in his pop tart. 

Lucky for Joe, before Nile had a chance to ask anything, Andy appeared. “Glad to see you’re all ready. Let’s go.” Something in the curt nod Andy directed at Quỳnh gave Joe the impression Nicky wasn’t the only person she had argued with that morning.

When they piled into their cars, Joe also noticed that Quỳnh chose the backseat. Nicky looked bewildered for a moment and then got in next to Andy who was already behind the wheel. They drove away before Joe and Nile finished packing their things in the trunk.

“So.” Nile looked at Joe once they were inside the car. She tugged at her sweater and gave Joe a meaningful look. “How did that happen?”

Joe shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible about inclement weather before changing the subject. “What was that about? Is everything okay between Andy and Quỳnh?”

Nile’s smile faltered for a moment. “They’ll be fine. I don’t know them that well yet but I think I know what’s going on, there’s only one thing I’ve ever heard them argue about, the whole secrecy thing.”

“Ah, yes. I heard Andy mention it when I went to the atelier,” Joe said, recalling the moment Quỳnh had introduced herself as Andy’s wife. “But I don’t understand. I mean, doesn’t everyone know?”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone knows they’re together. I think the issue is the official nature of their relationship might have some business implications.” 

“What, like a conflict of interest sort of thing?” Joe asked.

Nile shrugged. “I think it has more to do with money. Quỳnh was Andy’s first big investor or so I’ve heard. So maybe they’re trying to keep some separation between their professional and personal lives and I guess finding that balance can be hard. But that’s just speculation on my part.”

“They’ll be fine,” Joe assured her. He didn’t know how but he had the feeling he was right.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry too much about them.” Nile smiled and focused on the road. A minute later however, she revisited her original question. “So, what about your sweater then, Joe? You’re not leaving this car unless you tell me.”

A few hours later they were outside Joe’s building. Joe hadn’t had a choice other than to tell Nile about his sweater. He pretended to be annoyed but he actually wanted to talk about it. Maybe Nile wouldn’t have been the first person on his mind because he’d only known her for two days but Joe reasoned that if Andy trusted Nile then he could trust her too. 

So Joe told her about the previous night. About the sweater and about the conversation they’d had. He skipped the little detail of the snuggling because Nile was already giggling like crazy and he didn’t want to indirectly cause a car crash because she was laughing too hard. 

“See? I knew you could get on Nicky’s good side.” Nile dried a tear from her eye, shoulders still shaking with laughter. “I can’t believe you two couldn’t figure out the pull-out bed though.”

“In my defense, I didn’t even try!” Joe raised his hands. “When Nicky said he couldn’t do it he just flopped on the couch and I thought it was best not to disturb him.”

“And then what, did you invite him to share the bed?”

“No! He asked if he could stay with me because the couch was too cold. How could I say no when—”

“-—you like him,” Nile interrupted him, nodding.

“When he could have me fired. And then I gave him my sweater because he was still shivering.”

“You could have cuddled him to keep him warm.”

Joe’s face went red but before he could say anything, Nile was laughing again. “I’m kidding! Geez! Crushing much?”

Joe wanted to laugh too, the whole situation had been almost ridiculous and thinking about Nicky wearing something of his still made him feel giddy but then he recalled Nicky’s words about not wanting Joe to think it meant anything else and his mirth evaporated. He thanked Nile for the ride and got out of the car.

His mood didn’t improve the next morning. He wasn’t mad at Nicky, he was mostly mad at himself for letting a simple infatuation affect him this much. Joe tried to reason with himself that the feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t longing, much less butterflies, it was just the whiplash of meeting someone he had admired for a long time and going from mutual dislike —yes, the initial dislike was mutual, at least a little bit—and awkwardness around each other to. Something. Slightly less awkward. Maybe. Maybe. Joe made himself get out of bed and start the day.

When he came out of the shower his spirits hadn’t lifted, if anything he was feeling even more restless. After moping around his apartment, Joe thought that work would help clear his head. But as soon as he took out his memory cards he realized he would have to look at Nicky’s pictures and he didn’t feel up to it. 

He considered going out for a walk but one glance at the gray sky told him this was not a very good idea. He allowed himself to think about Nicky for a minute. No, about his sweater, he liked that sweater; he wondered if Nicky was still wearing it and then he had the horrifying thought that maybe Nicky would throw it away. 

Perhaps Joe could call him, just to make sure he didn’t. He could tell Nicky to leave the sweater at Andy’s studio and. And what? He didn’t even have his number. Well, he was sure he could ask Andy, or Quỳnh, he could tell them he needed to talk to Nicky about. About what?

The sharp ring of the doorbell derailed his train of thought. Joe grabbed his wallet on his way to answer, trying to recall if he was expecting a package. When he opened the door he thought he was hallucinating because there was no way what he was seeing was real.

“Nicky?”

“Hi,” Nicky said in a neutral tone.

Joe’s eyes scanned Nicky as if he were trying to convince himself Nicky was really standing in front of him. It was real, Nicky in ill-fitting jeans and a jacket that was at least two sizes too big for him. Joe wanted to say hi back, maybe ask if he wanted to come in but his mouth was faster than his brain. “What are you doing here?”

“I… um…” Nicky lifted the bundle he had on his right hand. Joe’s sweater.

“Ah!” So Joe couldn’t ask for Nicky’s number to ask for his sweater back. He was thinking he would have to come up with another excuse to call him when the realization that Nicky was literally right there and Joe was doing nothing about it hit him. Joe noticed Nicky’s cheeks looked flushed (but that could have been just the wind, right?) and his brain started working again. “Do you want to come in?”

For a second, Joe could’ve sworn there was a slight hesitation in Nicky’s eyes but just as he was about to say something else, Nicky nodded. “Sure, I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee either.”


	5. Chapter 5

Joe took his time making coffee. It wasn’t as though he wanted to keep Nicky there more than was necessary but he wanted to offer his guest a good cup of coffee, unlike the one they’d had at the hotel.

When Joe came back to the living room area (which was really just a couch with a table in front of it), Nicky was standing right where he had left him, as if he weren’t allowed to move. 

Joe was intrigued. He was pretty sure someone else would have snooped around, picked up the photographs that were lying around but apparently Nicky wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t even sit down until after Joe indicated the couch. He also noticed that his sweater looked fluffier than it had been the previous day, Nicky had probably washed it. He found it endearing. If he grazed Nicky’s fingers as he handed him the cup, he didn’t do it on purpose. Not entirely.

“Milk? Sugar?” Joe asked.

Nicky shook his head. “Thanks,” Nicky said, cradling the mug with both hands. “That’s twice you’ve given me something for the cold.” He eyed the sweater beside him on the couch. 

Joe chuckled softly and sat down on the edge of the table right in front of Nicky. “Oh, you know. Just taking care of the talent.”

Nicky snorted. “The talent. I just stand around.” Nicky fixed his eyes on Joe, as if daring him to disagree.

“Well, yeah. But you do it extra gracefully,” Joe offered, hoping it was a good answer. From the way Nicky laughed, Joe decided it was.

“I like you, Joe al-Kaysani.” Nicky took a sip of his coffee. “You’re not like those people full of false compliments. And you make great coffee.”

Joe felt his cheeks burning but he blamed the steaming cup he was holding. He wanted to say “I like you, too” but he couldn’t trust himself not to sound intense so he just smiled.

“I’m not.” Nicky pointed to the photographs on the table in front of him. “Interrupting you, am I?”

Joe shook his head. In truth, he should have been working but since he really hadn’t started he reasoned that Nicky’s visit didn’t count as an interruption. A slight delay maybe, a nice one. 

“So, Joe, tell me. Why photography?” Nicky leaned back on the couch and took a long swig of coffee.

Joe considered the question for a few seconds, he wasn’t expecting it. “I just. I find it to be a way to share the beauty of what catches my eye. A landscape, a wild flower, a person. The small miracle of a particular moment captured in an image, like a visual poem.” Joe looked down. “I hope I don’t sound pretentious.” He raised his eyes again and waited for Nicky to laugh at him but his expression was serious, one of rapt attention.

“That was a very honest answer, heartfelt. I don’t think you’re pretentious.” The corners of Nicky’s lips twitched slightly. “No more than any other artist, at least.” They both laughed.

“What about you? Why modeling?” 

“Oh, no. Please don’t ask that one. I wouldn’t want you to think less of me.” Nicky sighed.

Joe put his right hand over his heart. “I would never.”

“What answer would you like? The one I’ve been told to use for interviews?” 

“How about the real one?” Joe asked in a soft voice.

“I was.” Nicky looked down as if the words he wanted to say were scattered on the floor. “I was a rebellious young man. Nothing too interesting, I mainly skipped school quite often.” Nicky smiled apologetically. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do so I thought that meant I didn’t want to do anything. One day I was sitting outside a fancy restaurant playing my guitar when this businessman slid a card into my guitar case. I thought nothing of it until he came back a couple of days later and asked me why I had not called. It was Merrick. He said he wanted to sign me to his modeling agency, asked me to go to a photo shoot. I thought it was a scam.”

“And you went anyway?” Joe almost choked on his coffee.

Nicky shrugged. “I didn’t have anything better to do. Anyway, I went and I had no idea what he expected me to do so I just. Stood there. Rolling my eyes, looking bored, ‘impassive’ I think he called it. Merrick was pleased with the result. He claimed he had discovered me and that I should always remember that. To be honest, I never thought I’d make it. I thought whatever he saw in me maybe no one else would see so I just played along. I guess it felt easy, all I had to do was wear whatever they gave me, let professionals style my hair and stand where they told me to or walk the runway at most. Disappointing, right?”

“No. Maybe you don’t see it, Nicky, but you do have talent. Not just anyone could be…”

“Professionally good-looking?” Nicky interrupted him and they both laughed. “The thing is. I don’t even think I’m particularly good-looking, there are far more beautiful people out there. I just happened to have a quality Merrick wanted to showcase. Intimidating, Unapproachable. A brat. I do have a temper, but all those stories about me throwing temper tantrums at the slightest provocation? Those were all Merrick’s doing, he had a very exact idea of what he wanted to sell.”

“So why did you go along with it?”

“I felt like I had nothing else to turn to. I thought that as long as I knew those things weren’t true it didn’t really matter what he said. Also, Merrick had told me that I couldn’t get out of my contract with him, that he’d make sure no one else hired me. And it wasn’t too bad, I felt like a dress-up doll that designers got to showcase their creations on, so I felt useful. Until I grew tired of Merrick and the way he treats people, like he owns everyone who works for him; tired of the outlandish rumors because people are not so easily shocked anymore and shocking news sells best.” Nicky smiled sadly at Joe.

“I had no idea.” Joe thought guiltily about all the magazine articles he collected, wondering how many of those were lies. “At least you got to enjoy all the parties.”

Nicky gave a hollow laugh. “Ah yes, the parties. Those can be fun indeed. I did have fun at first I think. But then, Merrick would ask me to take someone as my date and it was always people who wanted to say ‘I dated a model’ but that weren’t interested in me at all.”

“That sounds lonely,” Joe said out loud without meaning to. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I don’t feel bad about it anymore but that’s why I had to leave Merrick, even if it meant never working again. I’m lucky I met Quỳnh and I’m grateful she suggested me to Andy, and that Andy gave me a chance. It’s so different to work with someone who genuinely cares for you.”

The nagging voice inside Joe’s head wanted to say ‘I care for you as well’ but he stopped himself. “It shouldn’t be any other way. I’m glad you’re among friends now.”

“Am I?”

Was it Joe’s imagination or was Nicky leaning towards him? Was he leaning towards Nicky as well? Before he could fully process what was happening, their mugs clinked and their lips met. Their coffee-flavored kiss was cut short by two sharp buzzes. A text with the worst timing ever.

“Sorry,” they said at the same time. Joe looked away first, pretending to look for his phone but he did not fail to notice the faint blush coloring Nicky’s cheeks. 

“Oh, it’s Quỳnh,” Nicky had a smile on his face as he read. 

Joe checked his phone and raised his eyebrows, he had a message from Quỳnh too. 

“Yes, tomorrow works,” Nicky muttered while he tapped. 

Joe reread the text he’d got. “Tomorrow?”

Nicky glanced up from his phone. “Quỳnh invited me over for dinner.”

“Really?” Joe read the text a third time. “Me too.” He smiled. 

“Do you think she knows we’re together? Here I mean.”

“I don’t see how she could, unless you’re suggesting my place is bugged,” Joe joked but he couldn’t help a sudden paranoid shiver. “Ugh, bugs.” Joe leaned tentatively toward Nicky and waited for his reaction, when he didn’t move away Joe tilted his head closer. A long moment passed between them before Nicky closed his eyes and touched Joe’s lips with his. 

“Thank you for the coffee, Joe.” Nicky handed Joe his mug and brushed his fingers lightly. 

“See you tomorrow.”

That morning’s restlessness was nothing compared to the absolute chaos going through Joe’s mind after Nicky left. He wanted to yell or maybe sing, he felt like dancing, he needed to tell someone. He sat down at his desk telling himself he had to at least try to work, but the second he opened the first picture of Nicky his brain went back to the serotonin overdose that made him decide he really needed to go out for a run, rain be damned.

Not even the rain dampened Joe’s spirits, he didn’t need music to make the workout bearable. The only thing he could think about while his feet hit the pavement was that he had kissed Nicky —twice!— and although he didn’t want to feel like a teenger with a crush he had to bite his lip not to grin like a fool. And he would see him again tomorrow. Joe had never been one to wish hours away but he found himself checking his watch more than usual. It was a wonder he could sleep at all that night.

The next day, Joe woke up extra early and forced himself to get out of bed. He scolded himself for not getting any work done the previous day and swore he would not get distracted until it was time to leave for dinner but his heart betrayed him by skipping a beat when he picked the mugs they had used yesterday and put them in the sink. Joe rolled his eyes and went back to his desk.

Nicky’s pictures put Joe’s concentration to the test. Joe had to remind himself that he was a professional, he could focus on the photographs and ignore the model. He was somewhat successful, at least he’d been able to actually do something instead of stare at his screen and daydream. 

As the day progressed though, he could barely sit still. One hour before he had to leave for Andy and Quỳnh’s place he stopped working and went to take a quick shower. He was tempted to wear the sweater he’d lent to Nicky but in the end he chose a light green button-down (nothing to do with Nicky’s eyes) and the jeans that everyone always seemed to mention how well they fit. 

Joe was taking a last look in the mirror when he realized that the clothes that Nicky wore between photo shoots were not exactly flattering; he wondered if that was on purpose, maybe wearing loose garments was Nicky’s idiosyncrasy. Or maybe he just didn’t know better and didn’t care. Joe was fine with either of those.

By a huge coincidence, Joe arrived at Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment at the same time as Nicky. Joe could not help the big smile that appeared on his face as soon as he saw Nicky standing outside. However, his smile did falter slightly when Nicky greeted him with a nod and all but ran inside as soon as Quỳnh opened the door.

“Don’t mind him, he’s probably hungry.” Quỳnh clicked her tongue disapprovingly while looking at Nicky’s back and then turned around to give Joe a warm hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having me,” Joe said sincerely. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, you know.” Quỳnh waved a hand. “Just a quiet dinner with our friends, nothing special.” The way her cheeks flushed said otherwise but Joe nodded and stepped inside.

Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment was a spacious open-concept loft, right next to the building where Andy’s atelier was and even so, Joe noticed there was a rack in the foyer along with fabric sample books and a sketchbook. 

Quỳnh followed Joe’s gaze. “You know Andy, she just has to bring her work home. Well, our work really.” She smiled warmly and walked Joe to the dining room. Booker and Nicky were standing by the table, talking. Andy and Nile were in the kitchen area, Nile was busy watching the oven while Andy uncorked a bottle of wine. Joe thought how much this felt like a family gathering, and wondered if he belonged there. All of them had obviously known each other for a long time and the only person he really knew was Andy, he wasn’t sure he could count Nicky yet.

“Sit down, dear,” Quỳnh said gently, as if she could hear Joe’s hesitation. “Dinner should be ready in a minute, if Andy hasn’t set it on fire. Let me go see.” Quỳnh joined Andy and Nile in the kitchen and left Joe at the table.

Joe was wondering whether it would be impolite to interrupt Booker and Nicky’s conversation when Nile yelled “Hot lasagna coming through!” and almost slammed a ceramic dish on the table. There was a scramble while everyone sat down and then everyone stared at Andy. 

“What are you looking at me for? Dig in.”

Quỳnh was filling everyone’s wine glass when the doorbell rang. She looked inquiringly at Andy but went to answer the door. Joe looked around the table, there was no other place left; he had the feeling again that he had been invited by mistake.

“James!” Quỳnh exclaimed. “Come on in.” Quỳnh ushered the newcomer towards the table. “We can make room for one more. Joe, this is James Copley, editor-in-chief of Guardian. James, this is Joe al-Kaysani, our photographer.”

“Nice to meet you,” they said at the same time.

“I really don’t want to impose, I just need a quick word with Andy.”

Andy nodded and stood up, she walked with Copley away from the table.

Joe leaned towards Nicky to ask if Copley usually joined them for dinner but Nicky turned towards Nile. Was it Joe’s imagination or was Nicky actively avoiding him?

Copley didn’t stay too long. After he left however, it felt he had taken some of the previous cheerfulness with him. When they finished eating, Andy spoke. “Thank you, friends, for joining me and my wife for dinner tonight. You are our family. We wanted to officially announce our marriage today, first to all of you even though you already knew, and then to everyone else. Copley had some, ah, news regarding our current project. But, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. Let’s be happy that we’re here together today. Cheers.”

A couple of hours (and quite a few attempts to talk to Nicky) later, everyone thanked Andy and Quỳnh and got ready to leave. Joe waited for Nicky outside the door, maybe they could walk to their cars together.

When Nicky came out, Quỳnh was patting his arm. “I’m sure it will be fine, it’s a ridiculous thing, Nicky. Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.”

Joe felt like he had to move, he didn’t want them to think he was eavesdropping but it occurred to him that maybe Nicky had told Quỳnh about what had happened the previous day between them. Was that it? Was that the ridiculous, unimportant thing?

Nicky’s eyes met Joe’s and he froze. Joe felt this was confirmation enough. He raised his eyebrows at Nicky but Nicky shook his head. Quỳnh didn’t seem to notice the awkwardness between them, or if she did she probably thought it was the usual one. They both said goodnight to her and walked to the elevator.

“Nicky, what—”

“Not now, Joe,” Nicky interrupted him.

The atmosphere inside the elevator was as tense as it could be. Something was obviously bothering Nicky. Joe assumed he was regretting the kiss (kisses!). As soon as the doors slid open, Joe stepped out almost tripping in his haste. 

“Joe?” Nicky said behind him. 

Joe didn’t even turn around to see him, he couldn’t bear it. “I guess now I know how you felt like with those fake dates.”


	6. Chapter 6

Joe’s knuckles were white, his grip on the steering wheel a lot harder than it had to be. He felt angry and hurt. Disappointed. He tried to tell himself that nothing had really happened between him and Nicky, there was no reason to be upset but he couldn’t help it. Joe had allowed himself to think that the sweet moment between them could grow into something else and while it bothered him that Nicky felt bad about it, the fact that he had told Quỳnh instead of him bothered Joe even more.

Just as he was dwelling on these thoughts, his phone buzzed. Joe ignored it. He didn’t want to read Nicky’s words and hear his voice in his head, probably saying something like ‘I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened’ or something along those lines. Besides, he was still driving and he definitely didn’t need to get a ticket over this on top of it. 

Joe started drafting a response in his head, planning to sound aloof and detached. Maybe ‘k’ would do. When he finally got to his apartment and fished his phone from his pocket he was genuinely surprised by the words he read.

“Joe, please go to Guardian's offices tomorrow.”

For a second he felt lost. Why would Nicky want to see him there? Then he realized Nicky had not sent the message, Andy had. Joe checked his phone but there were no other missed calls or texts, Nicky hadn’t sent him anything at all. Joe rolled his eyes and fought the urge to throw his phone into a wall. “What was I thinking, why would he care?” Joe muttered to himself. He replied to Andy, set his alarm and went to bed.

The alarm went off way too early for Joe’s liking. He walked to the bathroom still half asleep and only marginally less upset about the previous night. As he was locking his door he checked his phone one last time, no calls and no texts from Nicky. He shook his head. 

Guardian magazine’s offices were located in a fancy building. Since Joe wasn’t sure he’d be allowed to park there, he drove by and found a spot a couple of blocks away instead, he didn’t mind walking. The day was not too cold but he was grateful for his scarf and beanie all the same. That is, he was grateful for them until a strong gust of wind lifted the scarf and hit him in the face. Joe stopped to fix it and something caught his eye.

There was a newsstand a few feet away from the entrance to the building. Joe took a step back to take a better look and sure enough, Nicky’s face was on the cover of a magazine under the words ‘Bad Romance: Keane and di Genova’.

Joe told himself to keep walking, but he caved and bought the magazine; he folded it unceremoniously and stuck it in his back pocket, he thought it was probably not a good idea to arrive with a tabloid in hand. He was itching to read the story about Nicky but he still had to sign in to get a visitor’s badge and then he had to look for Andy, gossip would have to wait.

Not a minute after he had clipped the badge to his sweater Joe got a text from Andy indicating the floor and the office where they were meeting. Joe rushed to the elevators. Andy wasn’t alone there, James Copley was also there and someone else, another man Joe didn’t know yet found vaguely familiar. Joe knocked twice before letting himself in.

“Good morning, Joe, thank you for joining us,” Copley gestured to the chair beside Andy. “This is Steven Merrick, the…”

“The guy who is paying for all of this,” Merrick interrupted him rudely. “And who is not happy at the moment.”

Merrick. So that was the man who had threatened to ruin Nicky’s modeling career. Joe nodded to Merrick and took a seat. He noticed Andy looked uncomfortable and irritated.

“Right.” Copley turned to Andy and Joe. “As I was saying, redoing the photo shoots would be too costly. I suggest we work with what we have for now, and…”

Merrick interrupted Copley again. “Might I remind you, James, and you, Andrea that your new collection would have died in your sketchbooks without my backing. So it’s more than reasonable that I should be able to ask for a simple thing. Change the models, both of them.”

“Absolutely not.” Andy banged her fist on the table. “That makes no sense.”

“Nicolò should be blacklisted from ever working again as a model and as for your wife—yes, I know about that—, you’re favoring her unfairly. I am requiring you to use my models in exchange for the funding you are getting.”

“Why don’t we take a minute to calm down?” Copley tried to mediate. “Let’s agree to keep the current photo shoots, the article will run in a week and there’s not enough time to redo everything.”

Merrick stood up abruptly. “You’re not the boss here, James. I am.”

Andy stood up as well. “This is still my brand.”

“We shall see.” Merrick sneered and stormed out of the meeting room. 

Andy sat back down. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Joe. I thought Merrick could be reasoned with if we showed him the photos you are working on. Speaking of which, would you mind staying here today to work with some mock-ups with James’ team?”

“Whatever you need, Andy,” Joe squeezed her hand.

“I’ll show you to an office you can use,” Copley said. He stood up and held the door for Joe and Andy to follow him.

When Andy and Copley left him, Joe took out his laptop but instead of working on the photographs, Joe sat down and took out the magazine. He took a deep breath and looked for the article about Nicky. 

Well, ‘article’ was a generous word. It was mostly a collage of blurry pictures of two men arguing, holding hands, leaning close. According to the captions it was Nicky with some other model, Keane, who had been in an on-again off-again relationship for years and that apparently it was on again. Joe’s stomach did an unpleasant flip. There were a few more lines where supposedly Keane talked about how he and Nicky were working through their issues and he hinted heavily at some sort of substance abuse.

Joe threw the magazine in a bin under the desk and almost immediately took it out again, he didn’t want Copley to know he was reading that. He was staring at Nicky’s picture on the cover when the office door opened. Joe tried to react, hide the magazine, pretend he was working but he froze the second he saw who it was. Nicky.

Joe looked down at the magazine and shut his eyes, maybe he was imagining things. But when he opened his eyes again Nicky was still standing in front of him in a lumpy-looking sweater and khakis. Joe really wanted to say something but the only thing on his mind was how could this man, an actual model, be a walking fashion disaster when he was not being actively told what to wear.

“Hi,” Nicky spoke first.

“Hi,” Joe said by reflex.

“Can we talk?”

“I don’t know, are you talking to me now?” Joe asked, more defensive than he wanted to sound.

“You didn’t give me a chance to explain…”

Joe didn’t like interrupting people but he just couldn’t help it. “To explain what, this?” He waved the magazine.

Nicky groaned. “That.”

“Well, there’s not much to explain, is it? I’ve read the ‘exclusive’, so don’t bother.”

“Really? You’d believe a tabloid over me? And here I was thinking you were different.” Nicky turned around. 

Joe stood up and took his hand. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t owe me anything, it’s not like we’re dating. I’m glad you got back with.” Joe waved the magazine again.

“Could you stop, it’s fake, it’s all fake.” Nicky ran his hands through his hair. “Merrick called me a few days ago asking me to tell Andy I would not work with her anymore, when I refused he told me he’d make it very difficult for me to work. As if he hasn’t already.” 

“And Keane?”

“He’s one of Merrick’s models, Merrick must have promised him something good or paid him well to agree to say he was with me. The guy couldn’t stand me when we had to work together.”

“It doesn’t look like he hates you.”

“That’s not me,” Nicky sighed. “Merrick sent me those pictures yesterday just to show me what he could do, that he could make it look real; that’s what I was talking about with Quỳnh.”

Joe flipped through the magazine. “They do look real.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “When does the article say those were taken?”

“Last weekend.”

“And where was I last weekend?”

“At the photo shoot…”

“...and in your hotel room.”

“That’s why Quỳnh was telling you not to worry,” Joe said sheepishly. “But even if these were true, why would they be damaging?”

“I’m pretty sure there will be another article where Merrick plans to say my ‘addiction’ is out of control, that I hit Keane or something. And it won’t matter if it’s not true, just if enough people believe it. He’s hoping no one will hire me after that, not even Andy could risk it. Anyway, I don’t care. I know it’s not true, I just wanted you to know that, too.”

Joe took both of Nicky’s hands. “We’ll help you. You have to make a statement. We’ll think about something, I’m sure Sebastien, Booker, would agree to interview you and write an actual article.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

Joe shrugged. “No one deserves to be treated like that. And I think you’re a decent guy.” Joe let go of Nick’s hands. “You know, for a model.”

“That’s it?” Nicky took a step closer to Joe.

Joe took a step back and the back of his legs hit the chair. “That’s it. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Nicky took another step towards Joe.

“With model eyes.” Joe had no more room to back away, he sat down and looked pointedly at the floor. 

Nicky snorted. “Model eyes?” He grabbed Joe’s chin and tilted his head upward. “And if I do?”

Joe looked at the door, it was closed. “Then you’ll have to deal with the consequences.” He put his hands on Nicky’s waist and pulled him down to kiss him. 

The office chair creaked when Nicky sat astride Joe but they didn’t notice. Joe was holding on to Nicky as if his life depended on it, and Nicky was squirming so much he was all but giving Joe a lap dance (not that Joe was complaining). 

“Nicky!” Joe mouthed against Nicky’s lips in mock outrage. Nicky’s hands were underneath Joe’s shirt. “Your hands are cold.”

“So warm me up then,” Nicky whispered, biting Joe’s lip.

It was only the awareness of where they were that stopped Joe from doing something else about Nicky’s cold hands, which was a good thing because just as he was thinking of a witty reply there was a knock on the door. 

They looked at each other in bewilderment and not a second later Nicky had jumped back almost into the desk. Joe wanted to tell him to calm down, he had every right to be there, they could pretend they’d been talking but Nicky had already crawled under the desk and before Joe could do anything else the door swung open.

“Joe, sorry to bother you.” It was Copley. “Steven would like to have a word about the edits.”

“Sure, come in.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. His hair. He glanced around and found his beanie on the floor, he ignored it, maybe they wouldn’t notice it. He rolled his chair forward to better hide Nicky, effectively trapping him under the desk.

“I wanted to remind you that I have the final say on what gets published. Send me all the final photos tomorrow.”

Joe nodded. He didn’t want to say something rude and get everyone in trouble. Also, Nicky was between his legs and Joe was afraid his voice would betray him. 

Merrick seemed to notice something was wrong. “And one more thing. Since Andrea and James strong-armed me into keeping the current photo shoot, I would like you to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Joe and Copley asked.

“Yes. I want my models in it.”

“But how…”

“I don’t care how. Use that photoshop thing or whatever, like it’s that hard to turn someone into someone else. I do not want to see di Genova’s face in those pictures.”

Joe stood up but didn’t push back from the desk. “If that is what you want you will have to hire someone else to do it. I won’t tamper with my photographs in that way and I certainly won’t sabotage Andy’s work. Or Nicky’s. Or Quỳnh’s.” Joe looked from Merrick to Copley. Copley seemed just as shocked, as if he hadn’t foreseen that request either.

“Steven, I thought we had agreed to leave things be for this article. I’m sure you can have more input for any future shoots.”

“You thought wrong. And without me there won’t be any future shoots, but very well, if that is what you want that means you’re all fired. Starting with the top model divas. I have phone calls to make, good day.”

Joe sat down feeling angry and afraid in equal measure. “I’m sorry, James, I can’t do what he’s asking me to do.” Nicky squeezed his thigh reassuringly and Joe prayed Copley wouldn’t ask him to leave the building at once because then he would surely see the top model diva crouched under the desk.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll talk some sense into him. Send me the pictures.”

When Copley left, Nicky crawled out of his hiding place. 

“That was brave, standing up to him. Stupid, but brave.”

“Let’s hope it was not just plain stupid. I hope I didn’t ruin things for everyone. For you.” Joe picked his beanie from the floor and gathered his things. He took Nicky’s hand and Nicky walked right into his arms, closing his eyes, going in for a kiss. Joe very much wanted to continue their make out session but someone had to keep a level head. “Come on, let’s go find Andy.”

Nicky pouted but nodded. 

“And after that we’re going to talk about whatever just happened here.”


	7. Chapter 7

They couldn’t find Andy anywhere in the building, or Copley for that matter. At least they didn’t run into Merrick either. 

“She must have gone home,” Joe muttered. He texted her to confirm it. A minute later his phone buzzed. “They’re at the atelier, let’s go.”

If Andy or Quỳnh thought it was strange to see Joe and Nicky arrive together, they didn’t say anything. They had more serious issues to worry about. Nile, however, did not even try to hide her glee. Her eyes lingered on their entwined hands and she winked at Joe when Nicky wasn’t looking. Joe felt the flutter of butterflies in his stomach but he held onto Nicky’s hand.

Luckily, they were not the center of attention for more than a few seconds. Before Joe could close the door behind them, Copley showed up with Booker in tow. They all stood around a drawing table but no one said a word. Finally, Copley broke the heavy silence.

“I’m sorry, Andy,” 

Booker shook his head. “No. If anyone should be sorry it’s me. I was the one who suggested asking Merrick to finance your brand. I convinced James to ask him. I had no idea he would be such an asshole.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know he doesn’t play fair,” Quỳnh said. “It was a good idea at the time.”

“I thought he could be the money,” Booker sighed.

“Merrick’s right, though,” Andy interjected. “Without that money, we wouldn’t have been able to get this place, everything we needed for the collection.” She turned to Quỳnh. “I wish I had listened to you. Now we’re going to lose everything.”

Joe looked from Quỳnh to Andy. “No, that can’t happen. It’s not too late, right? There must be something we can do.”

Nicky nodded. “I will quit. Better yet, make a show of firing me, Merrick will love that. Maybe he’ll back off until you can figure something else out.”

Andy shook her head dejectedly. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Nicky. Besides, Merrick’s already threatening to involve his lawyers. He won’t rest until he gets what he wants.”

“And what does he want?” Joe asked.

“My designs, but to have control over everything else: the shoots, the models, the prices. I can’t let that happen.”

Silence fell around the table again. Copley, Andy, Quỳnh and Nile pored over a stack of documents, looking for something, a sliver of hope perhaps. 

“He’s going to buy me out of my own brand,” Andy muttered. 

“That’s it!” Nile exclaimed, sounding way more cheerful than the situation merited and startling everyone. She rifled through some pages until she found the one she wanted and pointed to a paragraph. “Andy, this says Merrick will own your brand, but it doesn’t imply you have to work for him, nothing does.”

Copley paced around the table. “Create a new brand!”

“Are you suggesting that we start again from scratch?” Andy asked, sounding skeptical.

“Not from scratch, no.” Quỳnh looked at her. “This time you will listen to me, and you’ll let me do the funding.”

“We talked about this before, Quỳnh. I chose to go with external investors because I didn’t want rumors about us, about me being with you for the money.”

“And look how well that worked out.” Quỳnh rolled her eyes. “Let people talk, why do you care?”

“But I—”

“No. No ‘buts’. You did say that you felt you had to hold back for this collection, remember? That you had to please someone. Well, you’d be free to create anything you want again, like you did for your first one. If Merrick wants to own this collection and keep the brand, let him; he won’t be able to create anything else from it, if he even manages to make all the pieces.”

“I will help in any way I can, I believe in you,” Copley said.

“You can count on me, on all of us here.” Booker looked at Joe and Nicky, the three of them nodded. “We can make this right.”

Andy wiped a tear that was running down her cheek. “Very well, then we have work to do.”

A flurry of activity followed. Andy sat down with Quỳnh and Booker to revise the interview that would appear in the magazine. Copley and Nile checked and rechecked all the documents that had anything to do with Merrick, to make sure there weren’t any loopholes the plan could fall into. 

Joe felt like he couldn’t really help either of the groups but he still wanted to do something, so he took out his laptop and worked on the photographs. Nicky pulled up a chair and sat beside him, not saying anything, just watching as Joe edited the pictures.

“You really have a great eye,” Nicky whispered. “Most pictures feel awkward, unnatural, sometimes even silly. The number of shoots where the photographer had some quirky idea that turned out just ridiculous.” Nicky made a gesture of exasperation. “And you have to play along because that’s literally what you’re there for, but really.”

Joe chuckled quietly but his eyes remained glued to the screen.

“I’ll shut up now,” Nicky mumbled. “I only wanted to say you’re really good.”

“Well, I had great models. Not everyone could look this effortlessly graceful.” Joe did turn around to look at Nicky this time, he was smiling but there wasn’t a trace of humor in his words, he was serious.

Nicky shook his head. “You could be.”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t agree when Quỳnh suggested I should model.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nicky replied. “You could, but why would you want to? You are too good.”

“Unlike Quỳnh?” Joe teased, his attention back on the pictures.

“Unlike me,” Nicky grumbled.

“You’re a good man, Nicky.”

Nicky pulled on Joe’s sleeve. “Good enough for you?”

The butterflies in Joe’s stomach fluttered madly. “Do you really want to do this right now?”

Nicky looked around. Everyone was busy but still, everyone was there. Nicky shook his head. “Later.”

“Later,” Joe agreed. “And there’s someone else you need to talk to first.” Joe pointed at Booker.

It was getting late when everyone was satisfied that they’d done as much as they could. Copley would make sure that no one outside of his team saw the final article until it was published. They just had to wait a few days.

Joe was exhausted, he was yawning every few minutes as he drove home. He hoped that everything worked well for Andy, for Quỳnh, for Nicky. He had a good feeling about it, his gut told him it would all turn out alright. Joe didn’t know if this good feeling was just the swarm of butterflies that had taken residence in his stomach since that morning. He couldn’t help grinning at the memory of Nicky sitting on his lap, kissing him as if there was nothing better in the whole world. Joe thought there probably wasn’t.

Not two minutes after Joe had locked his door, the doorbell rang. He yawned as he unlocked it again.

“Nicky?” Joe stood aside to let him in. He yawned twice more. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

Nicky bit his lip. “Sorry. You said we’d talk later, I assumed you meant today. Should I leave?”

“No, no.” Joe rubbed his eyes and walked towards the kitchen. “I’ll make some coffee.”

Nicky took his hand. “I’ll make this quick.” 

Joe nodded and motioned them to the couch instead. They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Why—?” Joe began but Nicky chose the same moment to speak.

“I like you, Joe. And I know you probably think I’m not serious because we’ve known each other for just a short time. I don’t know if there’s anything I can tell you to make you believe me, all I can say is that I’d never felt anything like this before. I liked you since Andy started talking about you, and then I saw you at Andy’s place, laughing with everyone, so at ease. I overreacted to your joke because I was nervous, and when I came back out you’d left.”

“Nicky—” Joe tried to say something but now that Nicky had started talking he couldn’t stop.

“And then at the photo shoot, I was sure you hated me. How could you not?” Nicky shrugged. “So I was defensive, trying to convince myself it was nothing. And I only made it worse.”

“Nicky, no—”

Nicky snorted. “But Quỳnh saw right through me. She was teasing me all the time, I was afraid you’d hear her. And that’s why she suggested I sleep in your room, though I don’t think she could’ve known what would happen. I was dying inside. And then you were kind to me and I knew I was doomed.”

“Doomed?” Joe asked.

“I could hardly wait to come give you your sweater. You should’ve read Quỳnh’s texts when she gave me your address. And then we kissed and I allowed myself to have hope.” Nicky blushed and he looked down at his feet. “And then Merrick texted me those pictures, saying awful things, and I was afraid you’d think the worst of me and while I was worried about that, I actually made it happen. You thought I was avoiding you because I was playing with you, and really, I was avoiding you because I was ashamed, and I was sure you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” Nicky sighed as if he’d taken a huge weight off his chest.

“Don’t avoid me. Ever.” Joe caressed Nicky’s cheek and lifted his face softly. “If anyone should be ashamed that’s Merrick, but I don’t want to talk about him right now. He’ll get what he deserves soon enough. But honestly, Nicky, how could you think I would believe a gossip magazine over you? And how could you think I didn’t like you for that matter?” 

Nicky opened his mouth to reply but he didn’t get a chance. Joe closed the distance between them and kissed him. Several minutes went by before they broke apart, faces flushed but with wide smiles.

“So.” Joe was usually good with words, but at the moment he felt so happy and so many thoughts were rushing through his head that it was as if he had forgotten how to speak. 

“So,” Nicky repeated.

“If you like me, and I like you.” Joe grinned and ran his thumb over Nicky’s lower lip. “Could we maybe see where this goes?”

Nicky kissed the pad of Joe’s finger. “I would like that.”

“It’s really late—” 

“Yeah, I should probably go—”

“—would you like to stay here with me?” 

Nicky beamed. Joe wasn’t remotely sleepy anymore and he could come up with a thing or two they could do if Nicky wasn’t sleepy either.

“We can take it slow.” 

“Yeah, let’s. Tomorrow”

The sun was already high when Joe woke up the next day. He didn’t want to open his eyes for fear he had dreamed all that had happened the previous night; however, almost immediately he realized it hadn’t been a dream. Nicky was really there, asleep in his arms, his back pressed against Joe’s chest. Joe kissed his neck, praying that this would be the first of many mornings waking up next to Nicky. He felt indescribably happy as he drifted back to sleep.

The day the article was due to come out they all got together for an early breakfast. The wait for the online version to be posted had everyone on edge. Several phones buzzed or pinged at the same time, Copley had sent a simple text “Now”.

Joe, Nicky and Nile crowded around Joe’s laptop to read Nicky’s interview with Booker. It was short but to the point. Nicky talked about the real reasons behind his split from Merrick Models and stated that while he was grateful for the opportunity, he was prepared to take action if Merrick’s slander campaign continued. 

Nile clapped when Joe gave Nicky a quick peck on the lips. “You guys are so sweet, my teeth will fall off.”

They joined Andy and Quỳnh at Andy’s desk to read the full article. Booker was pacing around the living room, apparently incapable of sitting down while everyone read.

As Andy finished scrolling and her face lit up with a smile, Quỳnh hugged her and read the final paragraph out loud:

+++++

_ As our interview draws to a close, after we reviewed the fantastic shots for the Guard’s Winter collection (shot by the talented Joe al-Kaysani), Andrea shares this piece of advice: “When you, young designer, have to choose who to work with, take your time and choose carefully. Value loyalty and friendship; money, you can find anywhere.” Wise words from someone I am honored to call a friend. And it seems there is one last surprise that Andy would like to share.  _

_ “This will be the last collection under the Guard brand. We are grateful to fashion mogul Steven Merrick for kindly offering to buy my previous brand, we are sure that the concept will flourish with him. My wife and I, joined by some of our closest friends, are proud to present The Old Guard.” _

+++++

“Well, what do you think?” Booker asked. “Did I get it right?”

Andy nodded. “You did, Book, you did.”

“Congratulations, my love,” Quỳnh said.

“This calls for a celebration.” Andy moved around the room, hugging everyone in turn. “Let’s party today, we’ll have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Together.”

+++++

It was hard for everyone to settle down for the rest of the day, elation ran freely fueled by excitement about the new brand and about the news of Joe and Nicky. Some days later, Joe agreed to do the very first photo shoot for The Old Guard in a few months, Quỳnh didn’t have to insist that much. If there happened to be silver bands around his and Nicky’s ring fingers well, Booker would surely get the exclusive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading. It was a lot of fun writing this AU and all the photos of the cast in fancy photoshoots sure helped 💜

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.  
> If you'd like to see more of this AU let me know (●´□`)♡


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